


Nice Guys Finish Last (5)

by anotherFMAfan



Series: Nice Guys Finish Last [5]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Jean Havoc Appreciation Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 08:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10827534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherFMAfan/pseuds/anotherFMAfan
Summary: "Why would I want to have lunch with a big old traitor?" Future HavocXRoyXEd.Language. AU in which Al is restored; Ed is 17. OCs.





	Nice Guys Finish Last (5)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jean Havoc Appreciation Week, April 26th, "Lunchtime Havoc Day."

Havoc finally made it to headquarters at 11:43 AM, almost five hours later than his report time.    
  
Under ordinary circumstances, that would most certainly not have earned him a note from the colonel on his desk telling him he had awarded him half a day’s paid leave for “merit,” but after last night, these were anything but ordinary circumstances.    
  
“Well thanks a lot,” he drawled, crumpling the note and tossing in the trash. “You could’ve told me I didn’t have to be here ‘til 1:00.” In truth, Jean didn’t feel as bad as he probably should, at least physically. It had surely helped that they’d started the party that early, and that he’d slept so late...and that he’d hurled up every drop in his stomach before he passed out on the bed. Jean wasn’t particularly in the mood for positive thinking, but not losing half a day’s pay wasn’t a bad development, at least.   
  
There was nobody in the office, so Jean took the bag from the deli he had brought with him for lunch and headed toward the service kitchen off the eastern room conference room. Sure enough, Falman was sitting inside, shuffling papers into a packet and managing to look for all the world like he had been in bed at 9:00 PM on the dot the night before, rather than drunkenly cheering the forcible stripping of his co-worker.    
  
“Good morning, Lieutenant Havoc.”   
  
Jean gave a grunt of reply and dropped into a chair at a round, white table in the center of the room. He set his lunch on it with a sigh, and looked over to the wall. There was a small one-way window set into it to allow staff to monitor those inside for signs of needing anything without being obtrusive. This was one of more lavish conference rooms, and it was usually only used for big-wigs. It didn’t surprise Jean that Mustang had pulled the strings necessary to use it, but it did still seem at odds with the tone of all his other plans thus far for the captain’s visit.    
  
Johnson was sitting at the conference table across from Mustang, her lieutenants on either side of her. He saw Breda, who was sitting on the Colonel’s left, stand and move toward the door, and a moment later he emerged into the kitchen, quickly and silently closing the door behind him.   
  
“You made it,” he remarked. Jean gave a non-committal grunt and looked back into the conference room.    
  
The three visitors were focused intently on the discussion of some document, faces serious as they looked back and forth from the papers before them to where the colonel sat across from them, back to the window.    
  
“Psh. Two weaknesses, my ass,” Jean muttered as he looked at Captain Johnson, watching her intelligent eyes scan the page. “If the beer and the tight shirt had anything to do with this, I’ll eat my hat.”    
  
Breda chuckled as he walked over to the counter and began to take down expensive-looking coffee mugs. Falman saw what he was doing and immediately stood.    
  
“You can’t tell me the colonel seriously thought she was going to be manipulated by that tomfoolery.”   
  
Falman was hovering beside Breda, giving him a distressed look that indicated that he had no intention of letting the captain be served Breda’s coffee, but didn’t want to interrupt his conversation long enough to tell him that.    
  
“It wasn’t about manipulating her,” Heymans said, letting Falman take the coffee canister out of his hands. “It was more a gesture of good faith than anything. Just like it was for the captain to bring herself and her lieutenants all the way out here to Mustang’s turf on only his word.”    
  
Havoc took that in for a moment, watching one of the lieutenants silently point to something on the page she was looking at. She nodded slightly to indicate she understood. Jean could understand that, he supposed; but if it weren’t crucial to the success of the meeting with the captain, he’d really have preferred Mustang to choose a gesture of goodwill that didn’t involve Jean gaining traumatically embarrassing memories he’d be trying to forget the rest of his life.    
  
Breda came over to the table and pulled out the chair opposite Jean.   
  
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you back-stabbing bastard?” Havoc snapped, turning to look at him and quickly extending a long leg to pull the chair back in to the table with his boot. “You don’t get to sit here.”    
  
“What?”   
  
“If I didn’t have a reason to tell you to fuck off before last night, I sure as hell do now.”   
  
“Come on, it can’t be said a good time wasn’t had by all,” laughed Breda, his eyes narrowed in amusement as he looked down at him.    
  
Jean glared at him. “Oh, yes it can!” he growled back.    
  
“Come on, don’t be sore about it, it’s all over one way or the other,” he argued, trying to pull the chair out again in vain. But when Havoc showed no signs of being moved, Breda held up his hands in defeat. “All right, I’ll treat you to lunch, then, we can go to Marie’s, and you can put that in the icebox for later.”   
  
“Why would I want to have lunch with a big old _traitor?_ ” Jean asked, folding his arms across his chest.   
  
“Can you not say that so loud with the captain in the room next door?” said Heymans in exasperation, casting a glance over at the window. “Come on, you love Marie’s. Besides, I have a feeling you’re not gonna want to eat lunch in here today.”    
  
Jean threw him a questioning look, but before he could even ask, the door swung open.    
  
Edward entered the room, his eyes moving around it once until he spotted Havoc. A huge, shit-eating grin spread across his face, and he put his hands on his hips.    
  
“It’s the man of the hour!” he said gleefully.    
  
“Marie’s it is,” agreed Havoc, standing quickly and walking out the door as fast as he could. Ed’s laughter followed him out into the hallway, and Havoc thought to himself that if he never saw the kid again, it might be too soon.   
  
But see him he did, just a few days later...and it was one night that Jean would never, ever forget.  


**Author's Note:**

> The last part of this series (7/7, NC-17, HavocXRoyXEd, "Havoc Gets Lucky Day") and an epilogue (NC-17, "Molest Sleeping Havoc Day") will be posted next year for Havoc Week 2018, and the series will be complete.


End file.
